


Sugar Grab a Gun

by Oh_Contrary



Series: Sweet Trouble [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Established Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Eventual Shklance, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Multi, Oblivious Lance (Voltron), Pre-Poly, Protective Shiro (Voltron), Slow Burn, Unintentional Sugar Daddies Sheith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:20:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28993584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oh_Contrary/pseuds/Oh_Contrary
Summary: Lance had always been a quiet bookworm. Luckily, between the bookstore and the charity he was helping Shay run, he'd made a living at it; and in Arus City for that matter! Now if he could just get his dating life figured out. He knew the city could be dangerous, he didn't expect dating in Arus to be so risky.
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance/Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Lance & Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Sweet Trouble [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2116155
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	Sugar Grab a Gun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadiSadi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadiSadi/gifts).



When Keith wasn’t helping Shiro with any of their many projects, he was writing. He had a number of freelancing jobs going, as well as the book deal his editor had finally gotten him. Honestly, he loved it. Writing, specifically mysteries, was the perfect outlet for him away from the drama of the team and their missions. 

But lately, he’d hit a block. Part of it was that he’d been home a lot recently, managing accounts rather than running missions. He was growing tired of sitting in his office, so when he sat down to write, it was no longer a relief. 

“You’re sighing again.”

Keith looked up from his computer to where his husband was leaning against the door frame. 

“I’m stuck,” Keith said, leaning away from the desk. 

“Have you warmed up?”

“I did everything, but nothing’s coming.”

“It’s ‘cause I haven’t had you playing with your knives lately, huh.”

“Yep. I blame you.”

Shiro chuckled, coming over to press a kiss into Keith’s hair. He looked at the laptop, seeing the mostly blank document. 

“Maybe you should get out of the house,” Shiro offered. Keith groaned, garnering a chuckle from Shiro. “I’m serious. You’ve been working hard for like two weeks straight, and while I love coming home to you, you really should see the real world.”

Keith turned the chair around, letting himself linger under Shiro’s bulk as it blocked him into the chair. With anyone else, it’s a position he would avoid, but he’d known Shiro too long to fear the other man, even when Keith’s fighters' instincts told him to put up his dukes. 

Instead, he hooked a teasing hand in Shiro’s waistband, pulling him close and crooking one teasing eyebrow at the older man. Already he could see the exasperated smile Shiro was trying to hold in.

“All the time we’ve been spending after work hasn’t been ‘real?’” Keith asked with a fake pout.

“Keith,” Shiro growled, a warning warming Keith’s ears with the sound. Keith only smirked. 

“Guess I  _ should  _ go out then. Find a ‘real’ man to—“

Whatever came next was lost in Keith’s rumbling laughter as Shiro pinned him carefully in place in the chair, lowering slowly to his knees in front of Keith’s chair. 

“Do you want to finish that sentence, Mr. Shirogane?” Shiro asked smoothly, a storm billowing in his grey eyes, which flashed like lightning as his hands slowly began their trek up Keith’s thighs.

“Not if I’m guessing what you want to finish, Mr. Kogane,” Keith offered lasciviously. He grinned as Shiro gave him a familiar teasing smirk. His hands tightened on Keith’s legs, and he slowly licked his lips, crooked in a smirk that always meant trouble. 

Keith’s eyes only flicked momentarily to the ajar office door as Shiro carefully opened Keith’s fly. Their butler Coran was thankfully out for the morning, and Keith let that knowledge soothe the anxious edges of his mind. 

This was just for them. 

Shiro was just sliding his prosthesis into Keith’s jeans zipper, when there was a buzz in Keith’s pocket.

“You’ve never been  _ that _ happy to see me before,” Shiro commented slyly, passing Keith his phone without interrupting his movements. 

“It’s Allura—ah, f-fuck.” Keith hissed, looking just past his phone at the beautifully obscene image of his husband in front of him on the floor. 

While Allura did twice send question marks in response to his typos, Keith managed the discussion with their handler without incident, threw the phone aside, and buried one hand in Shiro’s hair with a curse, covering his mouth with the other to smother a whine.

“Relaxed enough to write now?” Shiro commented as he regained his breath.

“If a few other things.”

Shiro chuckled, standing with a stretch. “Off to a coffeeshop then.”

“Stop trying to kick me out! We pay good money to live here!” Keith said with a huff, resituating his clothes.

“Yet you always complain you can’t write here and, what?” Shiro coaxed. Keith sighed. He’d been down this route before.

“Yeah, Yeah. Whatever.”

“You’ll feel better once this deadline passes. Especially if you write something before that happens.”

Keith snorted a laugh and stood with a sigh, closing his laptop. Shiro leaned down and gave him a kiss.

“I’ll have something yummy ready for dinner when you get home.”

“Thanks.”

Keith took his time on the ride into town. Traffic was light, and he enjoyed weaving his motorcycle through the city. He could move faster than traffic when he wanted, but was free to watch the world pass him in the wind. He let himself roam the city a while, driving slowly enough to people-watch. It was early spring and pedestrians were colorful and carefree along the streets.

Keith couldn’t help a smile. Even though he’d yet to write a word, the ride alone had him feeling better. It wasn’t often he could let himself just get lost around the city. Regardless, Keith began to turn his eyes from the pedestrians filling the sidewalks to the businesses behind them, searching for a cafe or restaurant that he could linger in for a while, when a turn and a stoplight planted him in front of a bookstore.

Keith looked at the small place— the buildingface was tight brick and narrow windows, a sea-green awning shaded the window displays and a little cart of one-dollar used paperbacks stood out front. Curling script across the awning above the door read ‘Florona’s Floataway Books & Cafe.’ Keith smiled.

The light turned green and Keith turned, choosing to circle the block. He parked his bike and walked back to the main road. He made it back to the shop, marvelling at the new bookstore now gracing his favorite part of town.

Keith looked a moment at the used paperbacks, flipping through a few of the battered mysteries on the forlorn cart shelf. He made his way inside, a bell over the door tinkling his arrival to the clean, cozy space. The path from the door was a blue carpet leading straight from the doorway to a spiral staircase. Directly ahead to one side was the service kiosk, a full bookshelf of ‘employee recommendations and local authors’ behind the waist high counter before the store’s inventory continued. The other side of the room was fully dedicated to a cafe, which had a few patrons reading and drinking at the small tables. 

Keith walked the shelves of the store, finding them close in a way that made the store’s smallness extremely apparent. He wandered back towards the front of the store, to the stairs, looking at their accompanying sign listing the genres waiting above. He was tempted, but he had come to be productive. He’d explore more later. He went to the cafe, ordering a sandwich and a soda that the chipper barista recommended off the list of specials.

He grabbed a table with views of both the door and one of the windows not completely overrun with displays. He turned dutifully to his laptop.

Much to his delight, Keith found the words coming slightly easier than earlier. He didn’t know if they were anything worth keeping, but that was a problem for his editor. He just had to make the deadline. He worked for a steady hour or two, taking a break for a second drink from the cafe, before sitting to read through his work and continue.

Afternoon became early evening and Keith let himself come to a stopping point. He repacked his bag and stood, stretching and looking one last time around the shop. All in all, it had been a pleasant and productive time. He looked at the cafe pastry-case, wanting to take something back home for Shiro and Coran.

“Something for the road?” the barista asked. Keith had decided he liked him. He was a straightforward but cheerful, round faced, man in a yellow t-shirt and a sea-green ‘Florona’s’ apron.

“That’s what I’m wondering,” Keith said. “Recommendations?”

“The coffee-cake is great for both dessert and breakfast. If we ever have an extra at the end of the day, I make sure to grab it. But take your time!”

Keith nodded his thanks, looking back between the menu and the display case. He felt someone come behind him in front of the counter, and he stepped aside. 

“Go ahead, I’m still deciding,” he said, looking back at the tall young man who’d joined the queue.

“Really?” the man asked tentatively, blue eyes briefly meeting Keith’s. Keith could only nod. “ Thanks,” he said with a smile. And even though it was a small one, Keith found himself struck by it. His attention went unnoticed by the blue-eyed stranger, who moved to the barista.

“What’ll you have, Lance?” the barista said.

“Caffeinate me, Hunk.”

“The usual? Or just an espresso?”

“Can I ask for both?”

“You can,” the barista said slowly, “but as your friend I won’t give you both.”

Keith couldn’t help a smile at the dramatic pout that crossed the tall stranger’s face. Keith’s hand clenched around his phone as his eyes focused first on the pouting lips then at the dramatically fluttering lashes that accompanied them. 

He could tell the action was purposely exaggerated, but the effect it had was uncanny, and Keith felt interest settle hot and new in his gut. 

Keith tuned them out from there, trying to shake the feeling away and make up his mind as to what to bring home. The interaction ahead of him finished and Keith watched the other man walk to a table and sit with his mug and a sigh. He ordered a half dozen pastries to split between dessert that night and then breakfast.

He made sure to tip well— he’d been there all day, after all— before wandering back across the store with his little box of treats. 

He pulled out his phone, scrolling through emails as he walked. One from his editor stuck out to him and he concluded to look for one of the books she’d listed in it, if only for an excuse to linger in the little shop. He mumbled a title-author combo beneath his breath. 

He walked towards the fiction section, searching along the cramped shelves and following the genre markers. He managed to round back to the front of the store, and sighed. It was a small bookshop after all.

He had resigned himself to leaving, and walked back down the blue carpet, gazing at the cafe area for a last glimpse of the young man from before—

“Need help finding something?”

Keith whirled around, surprised to find the young man from earlier smiling at him from behind the service desk. Keith couldn’t help a smile. No wonder he and the barista had seemed so familiar. 

He couldn’t help a selfish, happy thought: he had time.

“Thanks, but no.”

The cashier nodded, returning his gaze to his own book. Keith couldn’t help raising an eyebrow. He wandered forwards, trying to get a look at the title.

“What're you reading?” He asked finally. To his surprise if not glee, the cashier blushed. He pointed to the ‘romance’ gap on the Employee Recommendations shelf, and held up a delightfully floral cover with curling font titling it  _ Garden Snakes. _

“It was Florona’s recommendation for the shelf and I couldn’t help myself,” he said with a smile.

“Is it any good?” Keith asked. The cashier’s smile grew. 

“Yeah, it’s actually really great so far.” Blue eyes roved over Keith, slowly taking in the shaggy dark hair, the biking gear, the torn jeans, and the bag of pastries. Keith couldn’t help wondering what he was seeing in each. Finally, he shrugged. “I don’t know if it would be your style, but the writing is well done.”

“What do you think is my style?” Keith challenged. He got another laugh.

“No idea. You wandered the entire first floor and didn’t come back with a thing.”

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t pick anything up.”

“Yeah, but you still put them down. Nothing grabbed you.” 

“Yet,” Keith countered. Blue eyes narrowed playfully.

“Yet,” he agreed, letting a smirk shape his lips. “That mean I’ll be seeing you around?”

Keith hated being caught, but couldn't’ help a smile Nonetheless, he only shrugged. 

“If I catch your shift,” he said smoothly.

“Afternoon to close, Monday through Saturday. We’re closed Sundays.”

“What do you do then?” Keith asked. The cashier held up the book.

“More of the same. You?”

“Whatever I want.” The boy’s eyes widened, and a curious smile curved his lips as they roved once more over Keith’s casual unconventionalism.

“Boy, you’re something else, huh?” He said curiously. It was Keith’s turn to look shocked, both at the young man’s words and the way they made his heart begin to pound. 

Shiro had said nearly the same thing when they met. 

“So,” Keith started softly, leaning on the desk with one hand. Blue eyes looked curiously at his gloves. “I’ll be seeing you around?” Keith asked, aiming for playful but completely unable to keep the hopeful edge out of his voice.

“Sure thing. Have a good one.”

“You too,” he looked down at the nametag, brows furrowing as he read ‘Lancey-Lance.’

“Just Lance,” he said quickly. “And you?”

“Keith,” Keith said with a smile. He offered a handshake, smiling when Lance returned it with a smile. “Have a good one, Lance,” Keith said finally. He made himself leave then, refusing to look back at Lance, as it would only confirm the strange tight feeling in his chest.

Nonetheless, he couldn’t help smiling as he started his bike, practically purring with the machine at the giddy feeling rising in him.

He wasn’t one for talking to strangers, yet Lance was all easy banter and quick quips. Keith felt like whatever he gave, Lance could throw him right back. It wasn’t unknown for him or Shiro to flirt with other people. More than once they’d even entertained the occasional fling together; but none of those people had ever stunned Keith like Lance somehow had.

And he had called Keith ‘something else,’ right away. Keith shook his head, remembering the way Shiro had said it all those years ago, syllables heavy with challenge and latent desire. Keith knew that was far from what Lance had intended, but then he couldn’t imagine what the young man had meant. Nonetheless, the curious words and merry glint in the other boy’s eyes gave Keith the feeling that the other boy might just be important.

Keith made it all the way back to the apartment building, pulling easily into his condo’s parking spot and heading inside. Keith greeted Kolivan easily before being let into the penthouse’s private elevator. In the privacy therein, he fidgeted, trying to wrap his head around what he was feeling. The last hour of his day stuck in stark relief in his mind.

Luckily, he entered the condo to a kitchen in turmoil: groceries were everywhere, the surefire result of his unsupervised husband at the farmer’s market. He could leave his confusing feelings for another day, if they even lasted that long, he reasoned.

For now, it was a Friday evening and he had a stir fry to rescue. 

It wouldn’t be until Monday afternoon when he packed his backpack to go write and left the apartment with a peck from Shiro, that he would find himself moving on autopilot back to Florona’s Floataway.

The bells above the door sang his entrance and he couldn’t help a grin as he saw familiar sharp features at the information counter. Lance glanced up from his book once, then again. A smile crossed his face. Keith walked over to the counter.

“Can you help me find a book?”

**Author's Note:**

> Buckle in for a ride y'all!! Let me know what you think.


End file.
